Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Aadar Atreya

Romance Classics


4  

Aadar Atreya

Romance Classics


THE THERAPEUTIC TALKS

THE THERAPEUTIC TALKS

7 mins 169 7 mins 169

IS SHE THE VICTIM?

Smitesh was actually looking forward to the meeting. They decided to meet for lunch at 1 pm but the milieu was kept as a secret by Miss Bandyopadhyay. Smitesh was frantically excited regarding the fact that he was about to lunch with a former teacher. In his lifetime, he was a virgin in terms of dates. He did not count visiting spas and spending cash for happy endings. There was undeniably a fascination for the middle aged woman's red lipstick , tall reach and big breasts . However, the physical desire was not grave but good conversations. The lust for a voluptuous woman had more to do with his age. He was more attracted to the women's personalities and ideologies nowadays. This was a result of his budding interest in politics and sociology since the last year of college. The intellectual drift in mindset not only changed his academic performance but his outlook too. He himself admits he was perverted with the thoughts of lust before and took into account only the facade of a woman. Now, he was a feminist since he really knew what feminism is. His respect was for the likes of Jacinda Arden and not Valerie Solonas. Mockery of the oppressed was no more innocent for him and maybe the recent political environment played a role in it too. Unarguably, he was a man who changed for good.


Smitesh would have dressed for the occasion as specifically as possible. His mind however was saddened by the last night's incident. He did not expect to be so much hurt by that gesture but it did. Thus, he dressed simply in a tight fitting white half Tee and long, black jeans. It was a latent message he wished Miss Bandyopadhyay would receive. Smitesh's grandparents were disheartened for him refusing the lunch with them but he promised to make things up later. 


Smitesh awaited at the same place where he met Miss Bandyopadhyay. He was predicting the worst outcome of her not coming to meet him. He did not care much about people not paying enough attention but he was perplexed as to why each action of Miss Bandhyopadhyay mattered so much to him. His moments of brooding were thwarted when a car stopped by his side. The black window slid down and it was his date staring at him. Smitesh just stared at her for about a minute. 


Miss Bandyopadhyay wore red shades and a lot of dark lipstick. In a sleeveless black bodycon, he could not halt but run his eyes appreciating her. The music being played was Puccini's Vissi d'Arte. He could not do anything but quash all the anger he took home last night. A self introspection made him realise his choice of attire could not suck any more. She looked too good for her age in all honesty. "Hello mam!" Smitesh greeted as he entered the car. Miss Bandyopadhyay said that after his physique's transformation, a half tee shirt was probably the best fit for him. Excited from the inside, Smitesh just gave a sly smile. They both sat silently for a while and Miss Bandyopadhyay wanted to break the ice. "Have you heard Vissi d'Arte before?" she casually asked.


Smitesh was unhappy that neither she told anything about last night nor about the molestation incident. "Yes! I know the three of them die - the opera singer, the lover and the policeman" Smitesh replied. Miss Bandyopadhyay gave an appreciative nod. "So you listen to operas?" she asked. "No, just the instrumentals. I liked this one particularly and so I read a bit about it" he said. They perpetuated the journey and Miss Bandyopadhyay was busy humming to Whitney Houston. Smitesh realised that his latent message was not quite deciphered. Finally they crossed the beautiful road into a busy four way. There was a busy market selling fish, chicken and pork. The smell of fish penetrated even into the car and Miss Bandyopadhyay sprayed some lavender. She stopped at a fancy restaurant named Marigold. The restaurant section was empty and made things comfortable for Smitesh. 


"How do you like the place?" Miss Bandyopadhyay asked while adjusting her hair. "Good!" exclaimed Smitesh. Miss Bandyopadhyay could sense a change in Smitesh's behaviour but decided to keep silent. Smitesh did not try bringing out any topic as Miss Bandyopadhyay spent much of the time in car talking with one of her friends. It reminded him of his regular part in groups, the ignored person. He was no potato in groups and found it tough faking things. By the time, he already had felt that Miss Bandyopadhyay too was bored and this would be their last meeting. Just then, the waiter came to their place with a cake. Smitesh was sure it was not his birthday and confusingly exchanged looks between Miss Bandyopadhyay and the waiter. When the waiter left, he gazed at the chocolate cake.


 'THANK YOU!' were the words written on the cake. He slowly looked up to Miss Bandyopadhyay. She had a smile on her face and Smitesh could not hold his. "Thank you so much for being the life saver that night" Miss Bandyopadhyay said in a deep tone. Smitesh was now embarrassed of himself for the things his mind was making up. He now really wanted both to have a friendship, a friendship that matters. "Were you there to score too?" he asked in a funny way trying to keep the atmosphere young. Miss Bandyopadhyay was not quite expecting the question and hesitatingly accepted. "Wow!! That is cool. I really don't judge" Smitesh happily replied. "You cannot! You yourself smoke" she replied patting him on his hand. They ordered for some fries, a pan pizza and Mojitos. 


"So, what are you doing here? I mean, have you settled?" Smitesh asked as he took a big bite of the pizza. "Me and my hubby, we are chilling out in our farmhouse. He was invited for actually speaking in a university around here. So, we took the chance" Miss Bandyopadhyay replied. Smitesh told her about his vacation time and that he was enjoying the place. "Do you know any place around here where we can go sight-seeing?" Miss Bandyopadhyay asked. Smitesh thought for a while and asked if she was interested in witnessing live events. Miss Bandyopadhyay looked a bit confused and asked "Are you taking me for a sports match?" she asked. Smitesh laughed at her typical guess and said "If you love nature, you will be elated by seeing what I am about to show you". Miss Bandyopadhyay replied "Nature is Literature. Let's go!"


They paid the bills and the car set off for a half an hour journey. When the car stopped and they got out, they were engulfed by a vast area of mustard plants. They bloomed on the entire field. The place looked beautiful further when squirrels played with them impetuously. "Wowww!!!" Miss Bandyopadhyay exclaimed with utter satisfaction. Smitesh saw the beautiful skin of Miss Bandyopadhyay become all yellowish with the rays of sunlight amidst the yellow plants. She looked like a beautiful creation of nature at that point. They walked through the plantation field with Miss Bandyopadhyay holding Smitesh's hands. When he got to know that Miss Bandyopadhyay loves using polaroid cameras even today, he found the resemblance uncanny. They had similar interests in almost every sphere and Smitesh could see a friendship forging. 


They arrived at Smitesh's grandparents and Miss Bandyopadhyay repeatedly said that she whole heartedly enjoyed the old-school trip. They exchanged numbers and Miss Bandyopadhyay was ready for more trips. "Your grandparents are quite rich. Maybe, we can sit here too" she said looking at the house. "I think you will love a few more places to explore, outsider" Smitesh replied. Miss Bandyopadhyay had her shades confining her eyes every single second of the trip. But, she removed them impetuously when Smitesh got out of the car. There, he saw a cut below her left eye, an intentional one. It looked like getting scratched by a finger ring. Smitesh now could connect things with her sudden departure last twilight. His sleep tonight was not filled with anxiety and past grievances but the beautiful trip and the little scratch.


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